


I Can Fuck You Like This

by boognishrising



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, F/M, Hand Jobs, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 08:39:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17301431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boognishrising/pseuds/boognishrising
Summary: Murderface watches Skwisgaar fuck a fan from the closet and misinterprets a proposition.





	I Can Fuck You Like This

Pinpointing what caused the avalanche seemed impossible. It was so easy to fixate on the recent event, the argument he and Skwisgaar had found themselves in about which one was the more desirable of the two. The more Murderface thought about it, though, the more it seemed like a drop in a bucket in the grand scheme of things.

Being instructed to hide in Skwisgaar’s closet while he watched the guitarist bed a fan was inevitable. "But isn’t it kind of gay to watch a pal-"

"No, Moidaface. If it ams not gay to watch porns this amn’ts gay."

That seemed like sound logic. Though it still certainly felt pretty gay to get a very direct eyeful of Skwisgaar jacking his hard cock while he brought off the fan with his free hand.

He had her on hands and knees, off to the side to likely not tip her off to Murderface’s hiding spot. Skwisgaar would periodically throw a glance over his shoulder to ensure Murderface was paying attention.

By this point, Murderface had forgotten the initial point Skwisgaar was meant to make with this. They’d both been pretty drunk when they’d agreed, and had sobered some in time for the procession. He just remained sort of transfixed on the two fingers that dipped into her pussy for a quick check.

“Yous ready, baby?” He brought his voice low, deeper than he usually spoke in.

She giggled, wiggled her ass up at him in signal. “I want you so bad.”

He withdrew his fingers, patted her ass gently and pushed in.

Murderface had been kind of hard for a while. He was full mast by penetration time, with half a mind to start jerking off but something about doing that in Skwisgaar’s closet was way too weird, so he kept watch.

It was a good angle. Full view of raw sex, Skwisgaar making a few small thrusts as he settled inside before the first full slide to the hilt. She moaned when he hit home, quiet but pleased.

“You can handles this?”

“Yeah, hon.” She pushed back on him. “C’mon, don’t take it easy on me.”

From then, Murderface took some notes. Skwisgaar’s hand came up to her chin, gripping her jaw and pulling her head back. He started up in that steady rhythm and worked into a full pounding in less than a minute. He’d never seen this side of the guitarist firsthand before.

Just when he thought Skwisgaar had forgotten he was even there, he looked over his shoulder again and held a small smile. Murderface found himself unable to break the eye contact, the time they looked at each other feeling longer than it actually was until Skwisgaar mouthed something very slowly.

Murderface couldn’t read lips well. Especially not from someone with a less than stellar grasp of the English language, but he picked up on enough to know what he was trying to communicate.

Rounded vowel. Looked like an “Ah” at first until the mouth stretched wide to an “Ee”. Matching the movements himself, whispering under his breath, Murderface made it out to be an “I”. Skwisgaar must have had picked up on the pattern of Murderface imitating his mouth movements and slowed on each syllable to wait for Murderface to replicate it.

The second word was hard to make out. Too many things it could’ve been. But the third was easy, the upper row of teeth scraping briefly against his bottom lip for the “f” sound. “Fuck”. The fourth even easier with the “oo” vowel shape being so easy to place. “You”. Fifth word, “like”, and finally the Swede’s little consonant trip-ups of a “d” instead of a “th” being so recognizable he knew the word was supposed to be “this”.

He’d been so preoccupied with matching, he hadn’t actually thought about what Skwisgaar was trying to tell him until he’d gathered most of the puzzle pieces. I blank fuck you like this, and recalling the mouth movement on the second word, Murderface was able to fill in the blank with the word “can”.

Oh.

No way. Surely he was mistaken. Murderface was just so bad at reading lips that he had mixed up “You can’t fuck like this” with “I can fuck you like this”. It was showboating, and Murderface wouldn’t rise to the occasion. “Yeah, right,” he mouthed back.

Now he was distracted, though. Wouldn’t it sure have been something if Skwisgaar had actually just propositioned him? When he looked up again, Skwisgaar was focused on his girl, and he must have been dwelling for too long because he’d only caught what seemed to be another dozen thrusts before Skwisgaar went deep, several short thrusts inside while he came. He pulled out, handed bedside tissues to her for cleanup and grabbed one for himself.

“The Klokateers helps you find your ways out.”

“Don’t want to go for a round two?” She sounded disappointed.

“Next time.” He winked at her, and that was convincing enough for her to giggle, dress herself and leave. “Okay, Moidaface. Come outs.”

Murderface was glad to finally be out of the closet. Scratch that, rewind. He amended his thoughts. He was glad to finally be out of his hiding spot. He was awfully mindful of his own erection now that he stepped out into the light, and he didn’t miss Skwisgaar’s stare dropping very deliberately.

“Takes dem off.”

“What?”

“You said ‘yeah, alright’, did you not? I need to recovers, but I can gives a handjob while we waits.” Skwisgaar made a gesture of jacking off air. “Besides, I has to prepare you, anyways.”

All of this was too surreal. Murderface wasn’t following the chain. “Prepare?” Then he played back the sentence and realized Skwisgaar offered him a handjob, and after watching what was essentially real life porn a handjob from another person sounded really good.

Skwisgaar leaned over, picked up a large bottle of lube on his nightstand and look a moment to read the label. He seemed satisfied when he set it down again.

“Off, Moidaface.” Skwisgaar pointed to the shorts. “Or get out before you get the cold feets and leave in the middles.”

Skwisgaar was going to give him a handjob, he reminded himself. He did a slow, hesitant shucking of his shorts. He never minded the guys seeing his cock, but it seemed different when one cared to look. It made him anxious. It also made his balls twitch.

One pump out of the massive lube bottle was all Skwisgaar went for before starting on the cock head.

The lube was cold. Skwisgaar's hand hot. Something about it still didn't feel real. The heat and the pleasant sensation were more dreamlike, especially when he looked up at Skiwsgaar really focusing on the task at hand.

He was good, wasn't a slack when using his thumb. Knew how to tighten his hand, but Murderface always figured that as much as all of them jacked off, they would be handjob Gods.

Not that he thought about his band mates giving handjobs a lot, of course.

That's when it sunk in that he was getting fondled by another dude, but he was in too deep for the panic to take over. He knew that much. He just gripped the sheets whenever the thought got too overwhelming.

Skiwsgaar's face eased up on its focus and brows furrowed in concern. Murderface was giving him no feedback. “It'sch good,” he mumbled, finding it hard to look the man in the eye now that his gaze was met.

He was going to have a hard time pretending this didn't happen. He hoped Skwisgaar had enough sense to keep it under wraps.

The worry was too much. He grabbed Skwisgaar's wrist to stop the pumping. “It'sch, uh, nothing you're doing. I juscht don't think I can cum like thisch.”

Skwisgaar regarded him briefly. “Lies back.”

He felt stupid for feeling pinned, but did as he was told. He scooted up, laid back on the pillow and looked down to see the man tucking his hair behind his ear and working his mouth a bit.

Murderface figured out where this was headed and he braced himself. Closed his eyes for a moment, opening again when he felt breath on the tip and parted lips on the head. A fever dream sight if he ever knew one, Skwisgaar with his lips curled over the head of his cock, cheeks made gaunt with the light sucking.

When Skwisgaar’s eyes snapped up to his, Murderface looked elsewhere. He had to draw the line somewhere, he figured.

It felt good when Skwisgaar swallowed around him. It felt good when he was taken in deeper. Getting head always felt good, and he didn’t know where or how Skwisgaar picked up the skill, but he was so grateful he considered not giving the man shit for it later.

Bottomed out, he took a look to see Skwisgaar’s nose buried in his pubes, brows worked into a furrow. What went through someone’s mind when they were sucking cock, Murderface wondered. Then exhaled, taking the daring liberty of putting his hand on the back of Skwisgaar’s head to guide him.

“Bite me a little.”

He loved the feel of it, that little bit of anxiety of teeth near his goods. The scrape of teeth on his shaft with the working of the jaw. A small, tentative bite.

“That’sch right.” The encouragement came so easy. He wasn’t worried anymore. In the grand scheme of things, it really wasn’t all that gay. And then Skwisgaar’s fingers, still mostly lube-slicked, brushed by his asshole.

“Woah, woah, woah.” He hadn’t realized he’d tightened his hand around Skwisgaar’s hair, earning a grunt of protest from the man, but he was far too stunned to pick up on it. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Skwisgaar near spat out the cock when he pulled off. “You’re hurting my scalp, Moidaface.”

“Schorry.” He let up, instead moved the hand to apprehend the offending wrist. “What the fuck are you going for my asschole for?”

“Preparations.”

He couldn’t figure out just why the fuck the guy sounded so impatient with him. “Preparation for what?”

“Fuckings you.”

This was where he tapped out, ready to collect his clothes and get the fuck out of there before things escalated even further. He took a good long look at his shorts that had made it to the ground, then looked back at his still hard cock.

He wanted to cum so bad.

He really didn’t want anyone’s fingers, let alone dick, near his asshole.

He couldn’t just not return the favor, though. Even for him, that was a dick move. Him sucking a cock was definitely not on the table.

His head hung forward in a hesitant, permissive nod. “Alright.” After all, taking it in the ass just seemed less gay than taking it in his mouth.

Reassurance came in the form of Skwisgaar's warm wet mouth on him. It was easy to be appeased when it felt that good. Sighed into it again, tried not to tense so much when fingers started pushing between his cheeks. That semi-sticky feeling of partially dried lube. When it came time to reapply, he was worried that was when Skwisgaar would be serious about it.

The first finger pressed in when Skwisgaar bobbed and took him deep in the back of his throat. Nice distraction. Skwisgaar knew what he was doing.

He was left with the incredibly underwhelming sensation of needing to take a dump. If this was all there was to it, he could do this. He always thought a finger in his ass would feel gayer, not that he always thought about fingers in his ass.

That finger hooked in him, dug first-knuckle up. Tight in him, stretching a bit but not yet painful. Almost pleasurable in a distant, tense sort of way.

He pulled it out, raised his head and Murderface watched the second pump of lube with wide-eyes. “Pain?”

“Not really.”

It wasn't quite a no. Skwisgaar quirked a brow but resumed his sucking all the same. Cold lube spread over his asshole was far more brutal than his cockhead and he tensed considerably, earning a grunt from Skwisgaar that he interpreted as, “relax”.

He exhaled loud through his nostrils. Once it warmed it got easier. A finger dipped in to push in some of the lube. That was brief, a second finger joined it. Then it stung, an irksome pain.

Skwisgaar didn't move them yet. He let Murderface get used to them.

“Hm?” He hummed after a moment, the vibrations from the sound pleasant.

“I'm fine.”

He fucked him slow that way for a while, loosened him up. The sting turned tolerable as he got used to opening himself up.

The pain mellowed, anxiety ebbing from him. He focused on Skwisgaar's blowjob, shut his eyes when he started feeling himself get close.

“I’m gonna cum.”

Murderface had to give props to the man. He was undeterred, continuing as if it hadn’t been said. It felt great to blow in Skwisgaar’s mouth, everything swallowed around him. Oversensitive, waiting it out until Murderface got a little soft before letting it slip out of his mouth.

“Turns around.” He withdrew his fingers, patted Murderface on the thigh. “It’s easier.”

The hazy afterglow made him more pliant and relaxed than he would’ve been otherwise. When he sat up before turning, he noticed Skwisgaar was hard. Ha, getting hard from sucking cock. Fucking gay. Murderface at least felt secure that in a homosexual hierarchy, Skwisgaar was gayer than him.

He turned onto hands and knees, threw a look over his shoulder wondering if Skwisgaar was going to fuck him right then and there, but he watched the third pump of lube onto his fingers and the previous two were in him again. This time, followed by a third. A moment to settle. The slow move of fingers. Murderface's body learning to accommodate.

They stretched in him. Attempted to, anyway. The hole was too tight for that. That was the first hint at the splitting pain, and the sharp intake of breath tipped Skwisgaar off. His fingers snapped back together.

A placating hand sat between his shoulder blades and rubbed small circles.

“Don't treat me like a fucking lady. I can handle thisch.”

Skwisgaar clicked his teeth. “You don't needs to be a lady for me to not hurts you.”

“I'm not a pusschy.”

“Never said you were.” The circles stopped, turned into an impromptu massage of his shoulders. “I'm trying to makes sure you can walk tomorrow.”

Murderface groaned, turned his face to bury it in the pillow. “Do not schay gay schit like that.” It was muffled, he wondered if Skwisgaar had heard him.

Skwisgaar laughed, the bastard. “Have it your ways. Before you ruins the mood anymore, I'll fucks you.”

Murderface wish he kept his trap shut. He didn't look over for pumps four and five of lube. Heard the slap of wet hand on skin, the squelch of squeezed slick. He felt the remainder, smoothed hastily over his hole.

He heard of pillow biting. Gave the fabric a lick just to see if he could deal with it in his mouth only for fibers to cling to his tongue. That was out of the question. He kept a tight grip on it instead.

When the head started pushing in, he watched his own knuckles go white holding onto the pillow. He had to give Skwisgaar credit, though. It wasn't pure agony like he'd been anticipating, but it was pain.

He gasped when it popped in.

“Relax,” Skwisgaar encouraged, his own breath ragged.

That was easy for Skwisgaar to say. He closed his eyes, made a sort of low groan to help bear it for the moment while he gathered the focus to open himself up for a measure of relief. Only a measure.

It was easier with Skwisgaar sliding into him, pausing halfway for a moment before the first, small thrust.

“Keep moving,” Murderface said. It really was easier with him moving. Still pain, but less concentrated, and Murderface really started to get used to the feeling of it after a few passes. Enough where he opened his eyes again and loosened his grip on the pillow.

Skwisgaar hadn't bottomed out in him yet, still kept a slow rhythm of thrusting. Through it all, it started feeling kind of good. A recall to that first finger, that foreign pleasure he didn't yet know how to feel. Still didn't, not quite, but now he understood why a man would willingly have his ass reamed.

“You feel so fuckings good.” Warning and compliment in kind, Skwisgaar fucked harder. Bottoming out repeatedly, on almost every thrust, left with the surreal feeling of Skwisgaar's slicked and sweaty pubes on his ass.

He was getting hard. Didn't want to consider the implication at the moment, just wanted to enjoy it before he worried himself sick over it later. He started for his cock, but once Skwisgaar took notice he covered Murderface's hand with his own and guided the jerks, pumping his hips in time.

Stray thoughts came. He liked the feel of the large, thin fingers on his hand. Getting a reach around was really starting to make anal feel good. He wanted to kiss Skwisgaar. That was the one he left on before coming a second time, and he wondered if Skwisgaar had managed to stave off cumming long enough for Murderface to come first because he plunged deep and slow for the final thrusts as he came inside.

Gentlemanly. Murderface had developed a profound respect for Skwisgaar through this bonding exercise.

Skwisgaar eased out, reaching for the box of tissues and setting it on the bed. He grabbed a few sheets, sat back and starting cleaning himself off, inspecting the sheets afterward.

He nudged the box to Murderface, who had just slumped onto his stomach with a heavy exhale.

“Check for tears when you cleans up.”

Skwisgaar was checking for blood, Murderface realized. It felt weird to be watched while cleaning his asshole, but that was just another tally of weird for that night.

He looked at his tissues. “It'sch clean.” The thought of wanting to kiss Skwisgaar popped up again when the man looked relieved.

“Scho, now what?” He asked, hoping to distract from his thoughts.

“Showers. Open invitations.”

Murderface smiled, couldn't fight it if he tried. “Yeah, I'll take you up on that.”

“And maybe another day, I'll let you fucks me.”

He was past wanting to kiss Skwisgaar. Before the man stood, he took a hold of his arm. When Skwisgaar turned to him, he took his chance. A forceful kiss on the mouth. Pleased when he was accepted, kissed back, mouth opening with a slip of tongue.

“Dat ams pretty gay,” Skwisgaar teased as he pulled back.

It wasn't like he thought about kissing Skwisgaar again. Ah hell, he wasn't fooling anyone. “You're gayer.” When he leaned in for another kiss, Skwisgaar met him halfway.

**Author's Note:**

> On one hand, I wanted to name it after some line in R. Kelly's "Trapped in the Closet". On the other hand, R. Kelly is a piece of shit. Thanks for reading.


End file.
